A Technical Hitch
by amandamjb
Summary: Even experts have to call in an expert sometimes...


Sherlock looked at the laptop in front of him. The screen was almost blank, save for a brightly lit box where a blinking cursor awaited the correct password. Sherlock had been staring at the screen for what seemed like hours, while John watched from the other side of the room.

"Any luck?" John asked, in an effort to break the silence. Sherlock didn't even stir, much less look over. He continued to focus on the screen, transfixed by it.

"Sherlock, how long are you going to stare at that computer?" John asked, a touch of irritation creeping into his voice. Sherlock had been sitting in the same position for the entire day, appearing to not even move a millimetre.

"As long as it takes" Sherlock replied, himself irritated at the interruption. He looked over, at last breaking his focus on the screen. He turned back to the laptop. "There must be something here. Everyone has their weakness and every system has a way of getting in. It's simply a matter of finding them". A few seconds later, he stood abruptly and quickly shut the laptop closed. John looked up at the sudden movement, unsure what to make of it. Sherlock headed for the door.

"Did you find something?" John asked of Sherlock's rapidly retreating back. Then Sherlock was back in the lounge again, locating his coat under a pile of documents and photographs. Then he turned his collar up in preparation for the crisp spring weather outside and without another word to John headed out of 221b Baker Street in search of a taxi. As he left Mrs Hudson came into the lounge.

"Has he gone out?" she asked. John nodded affirmatively. "Did he say where he was going?

John raised his eyebrows. "Does he ever?" he replied.

Sherlock returned a few hours later, to find it was now John's turn to stare at a blank computer screen. The blog was moving slower than MySpace's share prices. John gave up all pretence of attempting to write an entry for this week and closed the computer exactly as Sherlock had done himself somewhat earlier.

"So what's happening with that computer?" John asked. "Any progress?".

"Sadly not" Sherlock replied. "It's a highly complicated security system. Several layers of encryption, multiple passwords and safety blocks."

"And, of course, you have a way to break through all that?" John asked. "This is the part where you explain how you're going to unravel all that."

"Not this time" Sherlock leaned back in his chair. "I need to call in an expert".

"An expert?" John thought he couldn't have heard properly. "Since when do you need to call an expert…..in anything?".

Sherlock considered the question for a moment.

"Because, John, being an expert means knowing when you need to consult someone with particular knowledge and expertise. This computer has a system that allows only one attempt at decryption. Even a single letter or key in the wrong sequence will cause the computer to delete everything in its files and hard drive. Hence the need to speak to someone who can access the information without destroying it".

There was a knock at the front door. Sherlock looked up.

"Come on, John" he said. "Aren't you going to let them in?

John opened the door of 221b Baker Street to reveal their visitor.

A slight woman, who barely looked old enough to have finished university, strode in past him and up the stairs.

""Please, come in" John called sarcastically to her as she did so, then rolled his eyes and shut the door.

He found the woman sitting in front of the laptop, opposite Sherlock who was now seated on the sofa with a china cup of tea.

"So" John asked. "Are we skipping introductions then?" Sherlock didn't answer. The woman looked up from the screen.

"Seriously, Sherlock" she said. "Where did you two find each other?".

"A hospital" John interrupted.

The woman laughed. "Really?" she asked. "Who was visiting who?".

"Any idea how long this is going to take?" John interrupted.

The woman rolled her eyes and continued. "This is a complex code, not a library card system" she said, seemingly annoyed by the question and immediately turned her attention back to the screen.

Silence returned. Sherlock continued to sip his cup of tea, while John watched him and the woman working away at the laptop. She was muttering something about a series of codes and decryptions, then without warning slammed both hands on the desk. John was startled somewhat. Sherlock didn't even look up or flinch.

"Dammit!" she shouted, then leant her forehead on her hands and slumped forward.

Sherlock looked up. "Tea?" he asked. His only answer was a withering stare.

Instead, the woman turned back to the computer and began typing rapidly. Sherlock and John watched: in turn amused and intrigued by the sudden flourish of activity.

Soon the typing ceased as suddenly as it had begun. Where there had been a blank line with a tauntingly blinking cursor, there were now seven dots where the potential password had been typed. She looked at Sherlock and John.

"Well?" she asked.

"How certain are you?" asked Sherlock. The cup of tea now forgotten, he leaned forward intently towards the laptop screen.

"Certain" she replied.

Sherlock looked at John, who held up his hands in mock defeat.

"Don't ask me" John said. He looked at their faces, then directly at Sherlock. "Look" he began. "You get one chance to do this, right?" he continued, and then turned to the woman. "If you're certain, then do it. If not, don't".

The woman's hand hovered over the 'enter' key on the keyboard. Then, with only a slight tremble, she pressed the key.

The screen immediately went dark, with the woman staring at the laptop in horror. She looked at Sherlock, then at John and back again to Sherlock. "Now what? she asked. Neither man answered. Then, Sherlock's attention was drawn to a small light blinking in the corner of the screen. He stood up and walked over to where the laptop sat on the desk.

"Look" he said. The woman glanced up at the screen, and saw it as well. She leaned forwards. Immediately the screen changed from dark black to brilliant white, then went on to reveal a seemingly endless series of files, documents and images.

"Happy?" she asked, then without waiting for a reply from either John or Sherlock stood up and headed towards the door. Sherlock watched silently as she prepared to leave.

It was left to John to break the silence. "Hang on" he asked. "It's bad enough that HE hardly ever tells anyone how he worked things out, now there's two of you?". The woman paused, then turned to John and smiled.

"Come on" she half spoke, half laughed. "Where's the fun in that? Besides" she added, looking over towards Sherlock. "If I did that, someone here wouldn't have a reason to call me the next time". Then she was gone, down the stairs and out onto Baker Street. Once he and John were alone, Sherlock returned to his cup of tea. Before taking even the slightest sip, he noted that it was now far past the point at which perfectly cool became a temperature even John would consider inadequate. Replacing the cup on the low coffee table, he turned his attention instead to John.

"So" he began. "Shall we head out?". John looked up.

"Out?" he asked. "Out where, Sherlock?"

"Come on John" Sherlock replied. "We can hardly just sit around all day, can we?". Once again putting on his long black coat, Sherlock himself headed for the door. At the doorway he paused. "What _are _you waiting for? The game is on".


End file.
